Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas.

In the most literal rendering of that phrase. "Christmas" is formed from the joining of "Christ" and "Mass". I have discovered that "Mass", as we see it most often, is not the original intent. We see Mass celebrated most prominently as the main liturgical Eucharistic celebration of the Catholic church.

What I've learned is that "Mass" is derived from the Latin word from which we get "mission" in English. Which suddenly changes the meaning of Christmas. The purpose of celebrating Christ at this time of year isn't meant as a liturgy to follow. Rather, we join him in his mission and purpose.

With that in mind, suddenly "Merry Christmas" is the equivalent of saying "May you find joy as you go out into your community and into the world, doing what Christ did and living like Christ did."

So...

Merry Christmas!

Follow-up to Last Week's Post

I had a post last week. Don't know what happened. When I logged on this morning, I saw that my most recent post was from two weeks ago. I was sure I had posted something last week. In fact, I know I did; it must have been abducted by aliens. Or maybe it's because I'm typing on a PC. If this was a Mac, the Mac would've known what I was thinking and posted it before I even sat down to type it, wouldn't it (all you Mac-ers)?

It's weird when that happens, huh? I'm going to assume that I'm not the only one who goes through stuff like that. Where you're absolutely certain that you've done something only to find out you didn't do it at all. Like, suddenly as you're wrapping Christmas gifts and you are certain there was another one but no matter where you look, it's nowhere to be found. Surely someone's been there.

I find it curious often though how we can be so confident of something that never happened. How we can be so certain that we've accomplished something when we've, in fact, done nothing.

In the book of Galatians, the Apostle Paul says that he was advancing "beyond many of my own age among my people" (Galatians 1:14) but he goes on to say that he came to realize that all this advancement was getting him nowhere and that his real accomplishments came as a result of God changing him and God working out His plan through Paul.

See, like Paul, I am realizing that nothing I do is worth any confidence or, for that matter, worth anything, unless it is God working in me and through me.

After all, apparently I can't even blog!

That's It

Jesus.

That's it. That's all there is.

I have spent four days sitting in conference sessions discussing any number of topics related to church leadership and management. I have listened to nationally-known people talking about our culture, about management issues related to the organization of the church, about preaching, about producing really cool Sunday morning programs.

I have pages and pages of notes and millions of firing synapses. And I am left with Jesus. That's it.

I spend my life planning, programming, strategizing, and managing. It is way too easy for me to be more concerned with the organization than about Jesus. I do what I do because Jesus is all that matters to me. It might be telling that I needed to spend a week away from my desk to come to that realization but I have come to that realization.

Short of the life-changing power of Christ in my life, every sermon I preach is just a talk. Without being centered on Him, every program I create or organize is just an event.

Over dinner, as I was talking about this with a Vicar (that's "Vikah", after factoring in for the accent!) from South London (England, not Ontario), I suddenly made sense of a verse I've read probably hundreds of times in my life. Matthew 6:33 says, "But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." Once my life has been properly oriented around Jesus, then all these things (that I thought I needed to work for) will be added. They'll just be added.

I don't have to worry about all that stuff that I normally worry about. In fact, we all have things like that. We worry about being effective at our jobs, about being better parents, about being able to pay our mortage. But life isn't about that. It's about...

Jesus.

That's it. That's all there is.

Two Planks

"Jesus didn't die on the cross to save sinners." I actually heard someone say that yesterday by a man affectionately known around Willow Creek Church as Dr. B. Now, to put that into context, as a kid I went to Sunday School and it was one of those pillars that we just had to know: "Jesus died to save sinners." I've made poor choices; I could never measure up to the perfection that Creator God expects of me; and I need someone to bridge that gap. Since I was a kid, I was told that Jesus loves me. That Jesus died to save me because I'm a sinner.

The reality, Dr. B continued, is, "Jesus died on the cross to save sinners for the purpose of bringing them together into a oneness community under the cross." What he means by that is that Jesus is not only concerned with restoring that gap between myself and God; Jesus is equally concerned with restoring the gap that exists between myself and other people.

There are two planks on the cross and each plank symbolizes a part of why Jesus died. The vertical plank represents my being brought back to rightness in relationship with God. And the horizontal plank, the one on which Jesus stretched out his welcoming arms, symbolically represents the restoration of relationship with those around us. Jesus came to bring us back to God and to bring us into community.

Real, vibrant, Christianity is only lived out when we are in right relationships with people. I cannot be a Christian if it's just 'me and God'. I am only living like a Christian when it is 'us and God'. Until I have embraced those around me with Christ-like love, I have not embraced Christ. That's a big deal. To be honest, I still haven't figured it out. If you're reading this and confused, you're not alone (because I'm writing this and confused!). I read and reread Ephesians 2:11-22 this morning because this is a great picture of why Jesus died on the cross; especially in light of the two planks.

Swimming and Second Chances

My son and daughter went swimming with their school the other day, but their swim was cut short by the lifeguards' whistle after one of the lifeguards found a 5-year old floating facedown in the pool. By the time the child was pulled out, this child was unconscious and turned blue. Although I wasn't at the pool, all who were there relayed that it was about the most horrifying experience they had been through in memory.

Miraculously, the child was resuscitated on the deck and taken to the hospital for observation and, at the time of writing this, it seems as though the child will be fine.

This experience has revealed to me a couple things about life. The first, and most basic, is just how quickly life can be turned around. In the grand scheme of life, what matters? People can make big issues out of little things but then it can take an experience like this to jolt us back to the stuff that really matters.

The other thing that I have thought about since this swimming experience is the translation from head knowledge to life-change. See, the lifeguards have gone through years of training just in case this very event should occur. However, due to the fact that none of them have ever experienced an emergency like this one, the movement from "What I should do" to "What I will do" is a big jump. I was not there so I cannot judge how the lifeguards responded, but I can only assume that every one of them is reflecting on that experience and thinking of what they should have done differently.

It's in those crucible moments where we see what difference, if any, there is in our lives. How many moments have we reflected upon and thought of things we could have (should have?) done differently? If I could only go back and do it all over again...

But there are no do-overs in life. We get one chance. And that realization can cripple us with regret or it can propel us toward change. Although there are no do-overs, there will be other crucible moments (different ones) and we work toward those ones.

Spiritually, if Jesus has made any difference at all in my life, it will show when the chips are down. Life in Jesus is supposed to be joyful, peaceful, and all sorts of good stuff like that. When I'm in one of those moments, the question is: is it all just theory and ideas; or has it really, truly made a difference in my life? Because the difference between theory and truth becomes apparent when we're in the crucible.

Variables

It's a two-fer kind of day! Not one post, but two (I'll make up for slacking last week!).

Earlier I posted on how we can allow experiences to create roadblocks to our growth and, as I was writing, I came to realize that this is something that we all do. We all have allowed those experiences to instill insecurities within us, and we have given great worth to certain areas because of that.

But the problem is that, when our self-worth is based on certain issues (be it family, work, success, finances, etc) then, when those areas start to tank, so does our self-worth.

In my dealing with people, I have come to believe in a theory: We all have issues and the only difference between my issues and your issues is in the details. Because I'm a logical, mathematic thinker, I think of it like this: p+e=i. Where p is who we naturally are. Our natural person, if you will. Psychologists would use the term nature for this. Who we are naturally dictates how we respond to our experiences (e). And, when I combine who I am with what I've experienced, I get my issue, i.

I know that counselling is not about formulas and variables but that's why I didn't become a counsellor. But this helps me because what it boils down to is that I can relate to your issue simply because it's only a matter of plugging in different variables into the equation. You can relate to my issue, even though you've never experienced what I've experienced, because you can plug my variables into the equation and come out with the issue.

The overarching issues aren't much different: most stem from insecurities, wounded ego or pride and issues of self-worth. But the way it plays out in our lives looks different because the variables are different.

Speechless

From time to time, my mom reminds me that, as a child, I talked incessantly. It could be because I have broken that habit (maybe even to a fault!) and my thoughts often remain just that: thoughts; not words. Or it might be due to the fact that I have chosen a wife who, on average, speaks more words each day than I do. So, when we discuss which gene pool my daughter swims in as the words continue to pour out of her mouth, my mother reminds me that she might just come by it honestly!

It's odd, when you think of it. People who know me would not define me as a talker, except of course, mom. Curiously, the first time people hear me preach, I often hear from them that it seems so out of character for me. But then, it's down there somewhere obviously.

It raises the whole Nature-Nurture question. How much of who I am is due to genetics; and how much of who I am is as a result of my context or experiences? And, if God created me a certain way, and I am not living that way, how much do I work to unlock whom he has created me to be?

I think that second question is where I'm struggling. Because I believe that God didn't create me in a vaccuum. He created me the way he wanted me to be and placed me in experiences that he wanted for me and all that has shaped who I am. And I have been happy with that. Happy, at least, until the last week or so.

See, I guess what I'm slowly coming to realize is, while God placed me in a context and gave me certain experiences, his purpose for those experiences wasn't for me to become someone different than he created me to become. If I have let things stand in the way of being whom I was made to be, I need to change what I'm doing to become who I am.

And that's what we all need to do. We all have areas in our lives that have prevented us from being the people God has designed. The Bible uses the word 'repent', which simply means to have a change of heart. We need to have a change of heart with regard to the stuff that we have allowed to stand in our way.

Of course, all this talk of talking has been heightened by the fact that I got laryngitis this week!

...but I won't allow that experience to shape my future!

I Think Therefore I Doubt

Last week, we began a stretch of four Sundays where we are looking at the last thing Jesus said to his friends. Matthew 28:18-20 tells us that he gathered his friends around him and said, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age."

To be sure, Jesus was asking a lot of his friends. Basically, if our faith in Jesus has made any difference in our lives, then it would follow that we would want others to experience that as well. And yet, what might just be my favorite verse in the entire Bible immediately precedes this: "And when [Jesus' friends] saw him they worshiped him, but some doubted." (emphasis added)

I find such freedom in knowing that these friends, who have spent three years of their lives with Jesus - who have watched him walk on water and heal many sick people and die and return to life - doubted him. It's not that I have a fascination with failure; nor am I trying to compensate for my own weakness. But it's encouraging to me because I often have doubts and these guys who had less reason to doubt than me also doubted.

It is easy to fall into the thinking that the life of faith is the life that rejects doubt. But it isn't. Rather, I've come to learn that, if I don't doubt, I have no faith. Faith believes in the face of doubt.

And what I find amazing about these verses that we're studying this month is that, while Jesus' friends doubted him, Jesus sent them out on their mission. He didn't try to convince them of anything, he knew they doubted and he sent them out anyway. He knew they loved him and worshiped him and that was more important to him than going out with a head full of knowledge.

Of course, we don't check our brains on the way in. We honestly seek the truth but there will be times when the truth makes us scratch our heads and wonder if it's truth. And we doubt; and we worship; and we go out and fill the purpose God has for us. And then, suddenly, as we're doing what Jesus sends us to do, the doubt gets flipped into faith.

Avoiding the Fate of the Dollar and Oil

So the latest casualties in the economic disaster currently facing North America are the Canadian dollar and oil. Both have been utterly devalued in recent weeks after breaking records only a few short months ago.

It's amazing how quickly things can lose their value, isn't it? It's not unlike when you were a kid and you really, really wanted that new toy and it was the most prized possession you had for, like, a week. And then it sat there with the rest of your devalued toys.

But we often do this, don't we? We often place inordinate amounts of attention on stuff that really doesn't last. We invest all sorts of time, effort, even money into activities, accomplishments and things. Only to find, after a while, that we didn't get out of it what we were hoping for.

Maybe we've had expectations for someone that they didn't live up to. Maybe we had high hopes for our new job and then ended up being a victim of corporate cutbacks. Or maybe we invested money in the commodity markets and now have less than half of what we had six months ago.

This sort of stuff becomes devastating when it's all we've got. And, when the value drops out of these things we esteem, we're left to wonder what we have left.

As I was preaching on Sunday, the thought occurred to me that I have been placed on this earth for a reason. And the reason is not to blend in with the world around me (if my purpose in life was to blend in, God would have made me into a chameleon instead). Rather, the reason is to make a difference and do what is good. As I live with this as my focus, I will see great return on my investment and there's no devaluation.

A Bipolar Afternoon

On Wednesday, of this week, my mother had tears welling in her eyes in excitement as she watched my nine-year old daughter win the silver medal in the district school board cross-country finals. Literally as her grand-daughter is running her race, my mother's father is being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance and, less than an hour later, she again has tears welling in her eyes as she watched him pass away.

Grandpa was a good man and we will pay our respects to him during his funeral, so it is not my purpose here to eulogize him. Rather, I remark on the curiosity of timing.

I joked with my mother later in the day about the bipolarity of her afternoon. Rushing from the race course to the hospital. Barely an hour between watching her grand-daughter pass a hundred competitors and watching her father pass into eternity. Tears of joy immediately preceding tears of sorrow.

If we could plan the timing of events, we would never plan it that way. But we can't plan them. We don't know when we will experience great excitement nor do we know when we will experience great disappointment. And we may never understand the timing. I can't give a great theological explanation why my mother went through such an up-and-down roller-coaster on Wednesday. One might think it's just happenstance and that's enough of an explanation. But I believe in a sovereign God who is intimately involved in the details of my life and so 'happenstance' doesn't cut it for me.

I can't explain why things happened the way they did. And I find freedom in the fact that I don't need to figure out why things happen the way they do. Rather, believing in that sovereign God brings us to the place where we can trust that He has a plan for all these experiences. And His plan is a great one.

David, while hiding in a cave from a paranoid king who wanted to kill him, penned these words, "I will give thanks to you, O Lord, among the peoples; I will sing praise to you among the nations. For your steadfast love is great to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds. Be exalted, O God, above the heavens! Let your glory be over all the earth!" (Psalm 57:9-11) It's not so much a question of figuring out why these things happen; it's more a question of figuring out what impact these things will have on me. Can we, like David, in the midst of elation and exhaustion, still worship the One who gives and takes away?

Absolutely Religulous

Well, it was kind of like a bug's attraction to the light. Or, maybe more like the "Don't look...don't look...ahh, you looked" reaction when we see a car wreck beside the freeway. You know you don't want to and yet you do it anyway. That's kind of what it was like.

I went to see Bill Maher's documentary Religulous on the weekend. It was one of those films where I know I didn't want to see it but I had to see it. To be fair, I laughed. Out loud. Fairly often. But often, when I laughed, I felt like I was cheering for the visiting team.

If you haven't seen the film, basically he makes fun of anything with even a hint of fundamentalism (and, let's be honest, there's much to make fun of here!) and then moves on to outline the conspiracy theorist's view of Jesus: he never really existed and his story was simply lifted from other ancient religions. There are books published on this topic that outline how his story has many parallels with gods worshiped in various religions and these are put forth as evidence that Jesus never really existed but was just a made up myth.

These theories made me think more than anything in the film because I'm not religious; I'm a follower of Jesus. So, while I can laugh at the trappings of religion, I have a much more difficult time laughing at the non-existence of Jesus. But there are a lot of holes that can quickly be shot through these theories. For example, it's pretty hard to retrofit a philosopher into a philosophic school of thinking. Either there was a Plato, or there was not. I can't just make up stories about Plato now and try to fit them into history. It doesn't work. Likewise, there was a school of thought and belief surrounding this person of Jesus years (decades) before the first book about him was written. If the books were of sketchy origin, who would have read them?

But here's what I have come to realize: books that are written and films that are produced that say Jesus never existed don't actually mean anything. See, somewhere down in history, someone could say Brent never existed because there was someone in some other culture or in some other era whose life had many parallels to mine. So, because of that, Brent must be a figment of someone's imagination. Even if that happened, I'm still here. And so is Jesus.

At the end of the film, Maher stands on a pile of rocks and begins preaching about the fact that his whole purpose in making the film is to create doubt in people's minds. ...and we're back on the same ground. Truth is, I can't have faith without doubt. Unless I have reason to doubt, faith simply isn't required.

And to that end, I have faith that Jesus lived. I have faith that Jesus lives. And I have faith that one day I will live with Jesus. Do I have absolute, 100% certainty? Nope. I doubt regularly.

Here's Lesson One

I have been stuck on this idea of 'It's not how you start, it's how you finish" for a while now. I know I posted about this last week already but this idea seems to be hitting me over and over again. This happens to me from time to time: where a thought or a life-lesson comes at me repeatedly over a short period of time.

Years ago, I was sitting around a campfire, camping somewhere along the Oregon Coast with about a dozen other people and we were just talking about life and faith and stuff. I don't remember much of that camping trip, let alone the campfire, but the one thing I remember is an off-the-cuff comment made by someone.

He said, that it seems often, that God teaches us a lesson, He says, "Here's lesson one. Okay, you got that? Then let's move on to lesson one. Have you learned it yet? Great, then here's lesson one. We good? Awesome...lesson one!" That is so often the way God works in my life. It seems like He teaches me the same things over and over again.

What I've come to realize is that this probably says more about me than it does about God. It probably has more to do with my stubbornness than it does with God's failure to move along. It is probably more to do with my unwillingness to grasp what God is teaching me than with God's penchant for repetition.

If I would boil it all down, I could probably look back on my life and all the life-issues I face would really be rooted in a couple of areas where God continues to show me 'lesson one.'

Maybe one day, I'll graduate to lesson two (mind you, lesson two entails a lot of review from lesson one!).

Winning

I have been struggling with this week's post. Not because I don't have anything to say but rather because I can't narrow down what I'd like to say. I have begun and deleted this post at least five times today. I began almost eight hours ago and then left it until now because nothing has captured the heart of what I'm feeling. That said, this probably won't either, but it's going to have to do.

In many ways, the Cowboys game on Monday night serves as an analogy for where I am. Okay, I admit, football-is-to-life analogies are way too cliche (Remember the Titans anyone?) but you'll have to deal with it. See, the Cowboys beat the Eagles not because they made fewer mistakes than the Eagles (they made more). Nor was their victory the result of the Cowboys' superior playing (even though the Cowboys are superior, they didn't necessarily play better than the Eagles!). Rather, the game was won on their refusal to let mistakes get the best of them.

And I think that's where I realize I need to be. Last week, I posted about the messed up marriages of people I know in ministry. Stuff like that can easily get to me. I'm no less angry this week over the pain that these people have caused themselves, their families and the people under their spiritual authority. However, these guys are on my (our) team. And, as in sports, if we're going to win, we can't let the of our teammates wear us down.

I feel like the reason I become so angry when the people who have earned my respect fall into sin is because I recognize that I can so easily be there, too. I recognize that, unless I am consistently checking my life and repenting of the areas where I am beginning to stray slightly off-course, I can become bogged down in the stuff that doesn't matter. See, it's not just the mistakes of our teammates, we can't let the mistakes (sin) that we commit wear us down either.

Following Jesus is about victory, but so many Christians are getting beaten badly. Either through sin that others have committed that they can't get over, or through their own sin (or a combination of both). And what happens is that they get frustrated with the way other Christians are living and it stunts the growth of their own faith; or they become frustrated with their own cycle of poor choices and feel like they can't get out from under it.

But, what is necessary is to turn their lives around. The word the Bible uses for this is repentance. We need to repent of our own poor choices and we need to repent of allowing the poor choices of others get the best of us. As we do that, we'll experience this 'victory' that we're supposed to see.

After the game on Monday night, wide receiver Terrell Owens said, "It's not how you start, it's how you finish." May we all finish well. May we all repent from our mistakes. May we, admit our failures and move forward from them so that we can see victory.



...and may the Cowboys win the Super Bowl.

Ministry, Marriage, and Messiness

I was all set to go into a nice, long post about the big news about the world's biggest science experiment that was fired up yesterday about 300 feet below the Swiss-French border. About how the science world is all abuzz because this will tell us everything we need to know about how the earth began. Aside from the fact that they could have saved $5+ billion and read Genesis 1, its pretty amazing what the physicists are saying about this machine.

I was all set to post about it and I had a conversation that completely changed my thought pattern.

Last month, Todd Bentley made headlines because he had an "unhealthy relationship on an emotional level with a female member of his staff." I hate it when stuff like this happens. That wasn't the conversation I had this morning, but it leads up to it. See, I've got to be honest, lately it seems as though I'm consistently hearing about pastors with broken marriages. This is the substance of said conversation. Now two more marriages of Christian leaders with whom I'm acquainted have been added to that horrible statistic.

Honestly, I don't get it. It angers me. I have no words. I have no nice, little life-lesson to tack onto the end of this post. Other than, "I love my wife." Mind you, that's probably a bigger lesson than most.

Eleven and a Half Hours

So my kids and I were standing by the finish line the other day, waiting for my beautiful bride to cross the finish line of her half-marathon (so proud of her!) and watching all the hard-core runners cross in ridiculously fast times. The race announcer knew all the top finishers and kept us in the loop of many of their previous feats as they came down the chute.

I was struck by the announcer's comment as one middle-aged man crossed. Apparently this particular man had recently completed the IronMan Canada in 11 1/2 hours which was great news because he then qualified for the IronMan World Championships in Kona, Hawaii. Aside from the sheer marvel of completing an IronMan Triathalon (3.8km swim; 180km bike; 42.2km run) and being able to endure that intense of a fitness work out for 11+ hours, I couldn't help but wonder how many hours he had spent to train for that one event. And what did he get as a result? The chance to do it all over again.

Now, I don't want to downplay the incredible achievement it is to complete an IronMan (let alone qualify for the world championships), but I was thinking about how, so often in our lives, we become passionately engaged in things that, a year from now, no one else will remember. And how much energy we invest in activities that will have little long-term return. And what happens is that we end up surrounding ourselves with equal passion around the same stuff we've allowed to distract us (just talk to someone whose passionate about running!).

Truth is, I can easily become that. It is so easy for me to become distracted with stuff that no one will care about a year, or a decade or a century from now. Don't hear me getting down on hobbies or exercise or any of that; I truly believe that there is a place for all of that. I enjoy running and exercise and hockey and stuff. But I think it's easy for us to allow those hobbies or those activities to distract us from the stuff that really matters. I hope and I pray that the things I do matter not just for a week or year or century, but for eternity.

It is my hope that, the things I do have more significance than having people look at me and go "Wow, that's crazy!" and have some random pastor blog about it later that week. It is my hope that the life I live impacts the life that others live forever. I want to live with an eye to eternity, not just to the next thing (whatever that next thing might be).

Resting on Laurels

I have made it no secret that I have actively participated in the Beijing Games and I feel as though I should have podiumed in the "Rhythmic Remote Controlling" event. My heart was with the athletes while my butt was with the sofa.

And my favorite athlete coming out of these past two weeks has to be Adam VanKoeverden. I don't want to take anything away from the blazing fast Usain Bolt or the accomplishments of Michael Phelps, the two athletes for whom the Beijing Games will most likely be remembered. Far and away, I was most impressed by Adam VanKoeverden's interviews. Here is a guy who, going into the games had Canada's hopes literally on his shoulders as he carried the flag for the opening ceremonies. And then he breezes into the finals for both events he entered and completely tanks in the 1000 metre kayak. But it was what happened afterward that impressed me about this guy. The CBC interviewer (by the way, does the CBC make their interviewers ask those ridiculous questions? Every last one of them were brutal on the athletes!) asks him what happens and he looks straight into the camera and apologizes, presumably to Canada. Like, as if we need an apology. He has just paddled his tail off while our tails are making indents on the upholstery!

And then, every interview afterward just impressed me more. I am convinced that there is not a more honest athlete in the entire athlete's village. The guy was frank and honest and real. The kind of guy you can imagine watching the game with. During the closing ceremonies, he said something that was huge for me. He said that you just can't take anything for granted or rest on your laurels. You need to stop looking back at what you've done (or what you haven't done) and you just move forward.

We spend too much time looking backward. We might have a great spiritual experience, so we look to that as a pinnacle moment. But the problem is that we come down from that pinnacle in a hurry--and then what? Sunday was a tremendous morning for me. It seemed like God showed up in ways I never expected and in many ways it was a real pinnacle moment for me. But I left church and stuff just happens. We look back and say, "Wow, look what Jesus did." And we move forward and say, "Wow, look what Jesus is doing." Just like the story we read from John 5. Jesus told the man who couldn't walk: "Get up, take up your bed, and walk." "Take up your bed": remember what happened; but "Walk": move forward and don't rest on the laurels of that experience. He is doing something new today and something new tomorrow.

When God Speaks

So it seems like I've had dozens of conversations over the past year or so with different people who say things like, "God has been speaking to me;" or, "I want to know God's voice;" or, "I feel like I can't hear God's voice." Stuff like that.

And it has made me wonder something: is God's voice really that hard to hear? I mean, do we just assume he's a divine low-talker? The Bible tells us repeatedly that God is a loving Father, which begs the question: if he is such a loving Father, why doesn't he just tell us what he wants? I'm a dad. I wouldn't expect my kids to know what I expect of them if I didn't tell them.

However, if I told them and they weren't really listening, that's a different story. Which has led me to believe that, most likely, God has been speaking to me and, if I can't hear his voice, it's not because he's not talking. Which means it probably has less to do with God's voice and more to do with our ears, doesn't it?

What I've come to believe is that, more often than not, the Holy Spirit is talking to us, but he's saying things we might not want to hear. He's challenging the way we think and live. He's pushing us further and stretching our faith. And that's difficult to do. So, instead of actually listening to what he is saying to us, we assume that we simply can't hear--until, of course, we hear what we want, and then: "God's been speaking to me!"

The problem with this is simple: what loving dad only tells his kids what they want to hear? "Okay, you can have as much ice cream as you want and stay up as late as you want for as long as you want." While that's what kids want to hear, there are times when it is necessary to tell them what they need to (yet don't exactly want to) hear.

I have come to the conclusion that God is always speaking. That his Spirit is constantly prompting us forward in our faith in Christ. That the issue of hearing God's voice has much less to do with God's voice and much more to do with our hearing!

On Being the Rich Guy

On Sunday, I preached on the story of the rich young man who asked Jesus, "What good deed must I do to have eternal life?" As I read and prayed through these verses, the thought kept going through my mind: "I am the rich guy."

This guy is beaten up often in sermons because he's rich, but that's really not the problem. Sure he's rich and he likes being rich but that's not the entire reason that he doesn't receive what he's looking for. Truth be told, we like beating him up because he's unwilling to give up his money. Makes me wonder if, maybe part of the reason for that is because we are envious and it makes us feel better about ourselves. See, none of us thinks we're the rich guy, even though every person in the audience on Sunday was more wealthy than 98% of the rest of the world. But I am the rich guy.

Here is a man who is well-known for his upright, principled life. Even the disciples were shocked when this guy went on his way, basically saying to Jesus, "If that guy can't be saved, who can?" Here's a guy who says he kept every single command and Jesus (who did in fact, keep every single command!) doesn't argue with him. This is a good guy.

And that's where his question becomes exactly what so many North American Christians' biggest issue, "What good deed must I do to be saved?" (emphasis mine) We spend so much time focusing on our lifestyle and on doing good stuff that we miss out on what Jesus is saying to this guy. We think that the things we do for God will somehow tip his scales in our favor and so we busy ourselves with doing good deeds. But Jesus said two things to this guy in his final response: (1) let go of the very thing in which you find your security; and (2) follow me instead.

We find our security in all sorts of different areas. Maybe our jobs, or our families, or our friendship circles, or our education/degree, or our accomplishments, or even our church and religious acts. For this guy, it just happened to be his abundant wealth, but we all are less than willing to let go of certain things to which we hold dear. The other thing that Jesus told this man (which curiously gets overshadowed by his 'give to the poor' comment) was to follow him. To experience the fullness of life that Jesus promises and which he brings, we simply follow him. Do what he did and be what he was.

When we abandon everything to follow him, then we're not so rich anymore. Although, Jesus wraps up this encounter in telling his disciples the following paradox: "And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands, for my name's sake, will receive a hundredfold and will inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last and the last first." So, I guess, when we abandon everything to follow him, then we're richer!

Ye Must Be Born Again

I was listening to a sermon yesterday on the story of Nicodemus (John 3) and I have been thinking since hearing that story again about the cliches that Christians throw around without much thought to their actual meaning. In this particular passage, a term is introduced that is a part of Western Christianity in ways that I don't think Jesus ever intended. That term, the one many have grown to love and many others have grown to hate, is "Born Again"

In this story, Jesus tells Nicodemus, "unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God" (John 3:3, emphasis mine). And so, Christians are 'born again'. Nicodemus' response is classic in that he is kind of grossed out by the whole womb re-entry picture. See, Nicodemus takes Jesus literally, at his word, while Jesus is speaking metaphorically (although Jesus never actually tells Nicodemus that he's not referring to a literal rebirth, I don't think it would require too much biblical scholarship to recognize Jesus' figurative language).

Here's what struck me: Nicodemus was one of the religious guys. He went to church every week and was an overall good guy. Most Christians today are like Nicodemus. Not only are many Christians religious like Nicodemus, many Christians take Jesus literally here. So we talk about being 'born again' and we post billboards and placards that tell the sinners and pagans that they 'must be born again'. And, like Nicodemus, they stand there and say, "No thanks."

While this phrase is part of our Christian lexicon, we have forgotten that it was a metaphor used in a one-off conversation that Jesus had with a particular individual. Just like when he told Peter that he would become a "fisher of men" (ooh, another entry in the Born Again lexicon). Jesus wasn't dropping taglines or cool catchphrases, he was simply relating the eternal truth to people in a specific setting at a specific time.

Jesus never intended for these statements to be what they are today. Jesus was being relevant at a particular time and place. And that's what Jesus is calling us to today. Jesus wants us to follow his lead to proclaim that truth in ways that are relevant in our particular time and place

Euclidean Theology (Living at the Intersection)

Well, it's been a while! I admit, I've been slacking on the old blog-front.

I have experienced some pretty cool conversations with a bunch of different people since returning from Honduras . It always amazes me how, as we relate the things that we have been learning along the way, we all intersect at certain points along the journey. As I have been relating some of my experiences in Central America, I have had so many comments from different people who identify and who are encouraged in their own journey as my story intersects with theirs. And it is at that intersection point where I think God is asking all of us to live.

After I shared some of my experiences in my sermon on Sunday, I had someone come up to me and talk about how it would be great if we could all live on that plane. The world seems to drag us down to a plane that is at a lower level, but God is calling us to live our lives on a higher plane. It's true, God calls us to a different type of living. And the life that God desires for us is on a different level than any of us really experience.

But as I've been thinking of this planar (Euclidean) geometry view of spirituality, the dust gets blown off of the old math lessons from college (yes, I was a math-geek until the Lord delivered me! He healed me from math-geekiness and now I'm not a math-geek anymore; just a regular geek). See, in Euclidean geometry, planes (like lines) can be parallel or they can intersect. Spiritually, I think we often view the spiritual plane as parallel and above the physical plane. And following Jesus means porting over from the lower plane to the higher plane. The more I think about this, the less I feel it. The story of Jesus is the story of intersection. Jesus lived his life at the intersection of the divine and the human. At the intersection of justice and mercy. At the intersection of spiritual and physical.

What I think is that, because of God's grace, the "spiritual" plane and the "physical" plane intersect. If I am a follower of Christ, then my job isn't to try to jump to another plane so that I can look down on those who aren't spiritual enough to make it. Rather, like Jesus, I find the place where those planes intersect and I run along that line. When my journey takes me along the line of intersection, then that line will also take me through the planes where others are living and God will use that point of intersection to encourage them to walk along their journey.

That might sound weird (or technical; or weird AND technical) but the bottom line is this: following Christ isn't about trying to bump it up a level (Christ brings life to another level without me trying). Rather, following Christ is about living life in that place where His purpose for our lives intersects with the reality of the place where he has put us. It's about finding ways to love the people he has placed in our lives. It's about serving others and showing compassion in his name.

Jesus is calling me, and all of us who live in him, to live at the intersection.

Because Jesus himself is at the intersection.

On My Way

Tomorrow I leave for a week of ministry in Central America. It's the first time I've been able to bring one of my children on a trip like this with me. It has always been a priority for my wife and myself to do something like this with our kids when we had the chance. The chance came up and now, as it gets closer, although I am very excited to have her with me, I am concerned with how a nine year-old can process poverty and injustice and exploitation.

It's one thing to have a nice trip to the Caribbean, it's another thing altogether when we're spending time with children who have contracted HIV through child prostitution. How does an adult come to grips with that, let alone a child?

I pray for her that the stuff she sees will make her compassionate and angry at the same time. I pray that this changes her to the core and that she adopts Christ's love for these people. And I pray that she can understand that this shouldn't be and she and I are not powerless to stop it.

I will post again when I return...

'This New Idea of Evangelism'

Every morning, the National Post lands on my driveway and, from time to time, I have (or take) the time to actually read it. Most often, I turn all the pages and wait for something to catch my eye. Not surprisingly, generally any article that remotely references faith or spirituality gets my undivided attention (perhaps more surprisingly is the fact that every article on the political unrest in Zimbabwe also gets my undivided attention, but we'll save comment on that for another day).

With that in mind, an article in Thursday's paper ("Will United Church 'throw in the towel?'") caught my attention so I read every word with fascination. The article was highlighting a conference that the United Church (UCC) had going on over the weekend. When Canada's largest protestant denomination asks that question, enquiring minds like mine want to know. Now, obviously I know the answer to that question is 'No' (after all, I'm astute enough to realize that the very people who are asking that question would put themselves out of work and so they've got interest beyond the Kingdom of God here! They've got mortgages to pay and families to feed!).

The Post followed up after the conference in yesterday's paper with another front-page story ("Facing the Gospel Truth") with an answer I wasn't expecting. The UCC needs to embrace an idea that they have long shunned: evangelism. Now, to be fair, the reason I wasn't expecting it isn't because they have shunned it so long. The reason I was surprised that evangelism is the solution to the decline of the attendance at UCC churches is because evangelism isn't the solution to internal problems. In the spirit of full-disclosure, I was neither at the event, nor am I a member of a UCC church. As an outsider, however, the article in The Post left me with three basic observations:

1. What part of "go and make disciples of all nations" are we not understanding here? I mean, how does such a large group of people who claim to follow Jesus get so far away from the last words of Christ to those of us who follow him? Evangelism isn't a program to implement, nor is it the latest and greatest fad in ministry. It just comes out of what Jesus has done.
2. Why are we afraid to talk about the good news? By definition, "evangelism" is "telling the good news". That shouldn't instill fear in us. When a young couple has their first child, they don't wonder whether or not they should "evangelize" about the birth of their child; it's good news so they tell anyone and everyone!
3. Evangelism isn't about self-preservation. The fact that evangelism was tabled as the solution to the UCC's problem of declining attendance is more than a little unsettling. Jesus didn't send us out to go and make disciples so that our little corner of organized religion can last a little longer. He sent us out to go and make disciples because he is the very embodiment of good news. In a world without hope and purpose and meaning beyond what we can see and feel and touch today, he brings life and joy and hope and peace and goodness. That's good news for a world in such desperate need of good news. Jesus (and, since the church is the 'body of Christ', the church is by extension) the hope of the world. That's what evangelism is about. It's about loving and making a difference in the lives of others. Not about turning the tide on church attendance.

The most telling quote from the article came toward the very end, when one of the executive ministers "said he doesn't know how much of the Church is committed to this new idea of evangelism." Those five words, 'this new idea of evangelism'! Jesus sent out his disciples to evangelize long before they ever organized themselves into a church. So, ironically, evangelism is actually an older idea than the Church iteself (let alone any particular denomination, like the United Church of Canada)!

Seeking the Prosperity of the City

"Seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper." (Jeremiah 29:7)

I remember where I was the first time I really grabbed this verse. I was sitting in an attick office three two stories above Spring Garden Road in Halifax, Nova Scotia. I'm sure I had brushed over this verse at some point in my life on a cursory reading of the Bible, but this time I heard these words and those words meant something.

Fast forward more than a decade to last week. I was walking down St. Paul Street, here in St. Catharines and those eight words were screaming in my head: "Seek the peace and prosperity of the city..." As I was walking, I was reminded of the time when, as a teenager, St. Paul Street was a legitimate shopping destination. I remember when the decision was whether to shop at the Pen Centre or downtown, on St. Paul Street. And just 15-20 years later, I walk down that same street to see almost a third of the storefronts for sale or lease, with another third looking like their on the verge of closing.

"Seek the peace and prosperity of the city..."

As I walked, I prayed Jeremiah 29:7 over and over. In a previous post, I talked about seeing the city and last week, after writing that post, I saw St. Paul Street again for the first time. And it hurt, quite frankly. It didn't hurt because it looks run down. It hurt because I felt what God felt as He walks down St. Paul Street. He hurts because people who live and do business on and walk down St. Paul Street hurt.

As His Church, may we seek the peace and prosperity of this great city. It is so easy to see all the faults and the ugliness like St. Paul Street or . It is also easy to brush past it and focus on the greatness and beauty. But God asks us to do neither: He asks us to seek the peace and the prosperity of St. Catharines. Why? Because if St. Catharines prospers, we too will prosper.

Seeing is Weeping

Last week, I went around the city with a video camera to get a picture of the city. As I was driving and walking with a camera, I spent most of the time in prayer for the people of our city. I simply asked God to open my eyes to the city; to let me see people the way He sees them. Largely, I have been impacted by this one verse (and, interestingly, Ed used it in his sermon this past Sunday): “When he [Jesus] drew near and saw the city, he wept over it.” (Luke 19:41)

The truth in that verse that grabbed me is that, until I weep over the city, I am not near enough to it, nor am I truly seeing the city. So, in answer to my prayer, God showed me stuff that I’ve never seen before.

First of all, there is a stronghold of individuality in this city, which translates into loneliness. Especially downtown, but even broader as well. People feel lonely. We know that already in our church as people have stated that they ‘feel disconnected.’ This seems ironic in the church because so much effort is put to programs and events that will help people connect, but the truth is that most people still don't feel a deep connection with others. What God showed me is that we have been good at putting people into closer proximity to others. However, people in St. Catharines are sitting by themselves in agonizing loneliness.

Another thing that God showed me is that this city is marked by pursuit. This might be normal in most North American cities, but I saw it last week. See, people are trying desperately to fill that emptiness with...something; anything!

These were both illustrated to me by a stark visual. But what was weird is that I saw the same visual twice, in two different parts of the city. On two separate occasions, God pointed me to people sitting on the end of a park bench, by themselves, while others walked past without noticing them. In both of these circumstances, there was something of high value in the same frame (in one, a thirty-something foot sailboat was docked directly in front of the person; and in the other, a high-end car was parked across the street).

In our city, people are lonely but often try to hide the feelings with other pursuits. Some pursue stuff, while others pursue activities. When Jesus sees our city, he weeps because he is here to fill that emptiness. And Jesus is beginning to show me how he sees this city. And he's showing me what he is weeping about.

May I see more.

...and may I weep more.

On Failure

So, I have been in a long-term conversation with someone regarding this whole realm of becoming who God has made us to become. It goes without saying that it's easier said than done. I mean, we talk about dreams and vision and life-purpose and we love to quote Jeremiah 29:11. But when you feel trapped in a cycle of not seeing it happen, then what?

What happens then, I think, is that we look at our situation with skewed lenses. We look to extrinsic factors to motivate us, because we don't think we're in the right spot (and we very well might not be in the right spot, but that's a post for a different day!), so we look for any glimmer of encouragement we can find. And we're encouraged as long as all the externals point to 'success' (whatever that means!) but the emptiness just becomes more obvious when there is no sign of external success. When we try to do a good thing to help someone, but no one wants our help. When we put ourselves out there and we end up standing out there by ourselves. As we're standing there, holding the bag, we become frustrated; we feel like a failure; we make people feel guilty for not wanting to be a part of something so important.

As I look at Jesus, at the time of his death, every external indication pointed to failure. Jesus changed the life of every single person he met. And Mark tells us that, when Jesus was arrested, "They all left him and fled" (14:50). If anyone had a reason to make people feel guilty for abandoning him, it was Jesus: "Remember when you couldn't walk (or see, or hear, or speak, or...)? Yeah, well you're walking today because of me. Maybe you could show some appreciation!" If anyone had reason to be frustrated, it was Jesus. If Jesus was motivated extrinsically, he would have felt like a failure.

Yet this is Jesus at his highest point of success. This is Jesus fulfilling his mission on this earth. This is Jesus' passion.

In the church, so often, we measure everything externally. "Ooh, no one signed up for this community outreach; I guess they don't care about evangelism." Or, "Why doesn't anyone volunteer with the Junior High boys? Don't they care about this next generation?" Or, "We're offering this seminar/class but almost no one is coming; I guess they just don't want to grow in their faith like I do!" What would it look like if we measured everything by the same stick that Jesus did? First off, I think we would stop becoming frustrated and judgmental when we don't get the results we were hoping for. We wouldn't lay on the guilt for people who choose (for whatever reason) not to be a part of our thing. Instead, we would hold our heads high and say, "I believe God wanted me to do this and I am simply being faithful with it and letting Him do what He's going to do." Not only would we stop being judgmental, we wouldn't feel like a failure when we're stuck there all by ourselves. Our sense of success/failure would change. I am not a success because everybody wants to be a part of my thing. Nor am I a failure because nobody does. Reminder: Jesus' greatest success was shared by...NOBODY. Even his own Father, remember? "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mark 14:34)

But we never know what this lack of external success will look like down the road. We never know who will be impacted by our small act of faithfulness. We never know how our diligence with doing what seems to have nothing to do with that 'hope and future' that is promised in Jeremiah 29:11 will end up having everything to do with it.

Shattered Dreams (and the good news behind them)

You know, I was asked an interesting question the other day.

As we're going through the story of Joseph, we're talking about God's amazing dreams for us and how He is going to accomplish His dream in us. Even though we face difficulty and isolation at times as we move forward in His dream for us, we will look back on those experiences and marvel at how God worked through those difficult times. My encouragement on Sunday was to keep moving forward in the dream that God gave you.

...And here's the question I was asked: "What if I don't know the dream that God has for me?" The question sort of caught me off-guard. Everyone has a pretty solid idea of the destiny God has for them, don't they? Nope.

To be honest, I didn't know how to respond. Until I looked closer at Joseph's life. When I reread the story of Joseph in preparation for this week's sermon, I had that question in my mind and a simple fact dawned on me: Joseph didn't know his destiny. He had a dream, the one thing he knew was that his brothers and his parents would one day fall under his authority. The only image he had in his mind was that of his brothers bowing to him (Gen 37:1-12). The substance of the dream that God had for Joseph was, ironically, not the fact that Joseph's brothers would bow to him, but rather that Joseph would save millions of people from starvation (Gen 41:25-36)! We can move forward in God's dream/vision/destiny for our lives even without knowing how to articulate that dream.

This week, as we look closely at Genesis 39 and 40, we basically have two narrative stories that are tied together by a basic thread: Joseph gets jacked in both stories! We’ve all been jacked by people on the way through life. In the first story, Joseph is shown as a man of impeccable character and deserving of better treatment and, while keeping his head about him and remaining true to himself, he gets thrown in prison! In the second story, Joseph is given a way out of his situation, so he asks for favor from the guy and the other guy completely drops the ball on Joseph. Joseph has nothing to regret in either situation: he has done everything right. And yet everything goes wrong.

It sounds so depressing, but it’s absolutely not. What I read in these stories is this simple truth: God is not waiting for us to get everything right (and he doesn’t need other people either) in order for him to do mighty things through us. He's not even waiting for us to know His calling on our lives. That is unbelievably good news! Because it is entirely based on His sovereignty and His grace; not on our performance nor our karma.

I, for one, am thankful that God isn't waiting for me to be able to clearly articulate my life purpose in a nice, pithy statement. I am thankful that God isn't waiting for me to get my life in order or for me (or others) to live up to promises that have been made. I am thankful that He can do absolutely incredible things even in spite of me.

Live Like You Were Dyin'

As I'm preparing for Sunday's sermon, we're talking about potential and what God might do in us and through us as we allow Him to. But as a backdrop, this week began with a funeral for someone close to me. Funerals always lead me to the thoughts about what type of legacy I would leave. The conversations of living the dream and leaving a legacy are very similar to each other because, as I fulfill God's purpose for my life, I will leave that legacy.

In this particular case, the funeral was for someone who had been given a year to live and so the question of what would I do differently if I was given a year to live was a very real issue. As we stood by the graveside, the Tim McGraw song "Live Like You Were Dyin'" was referenced with the question, "If you knew you had one year to live, what would you do differently?"The bottom-line message for the funeral was this: she was given a year to live and she changed nothing about herself in that year. She remained the woman she always had been. She didn't try to be remembered for anything over that year other than to be remembered for the faithful life centered around the cross of Christ.

As we talk about dreams and fulfilling our potential, it is easy to become pie-in-the-sky and misty-eyed as we look to a utopian future, filled with every good thing we've ever imagined. But the reality is that, even as we follow our God-given, Spirit-led, Christ-centered dream, we won't enter into that utopia until we enter glory with our Lord. Life will remain painful and we will still experience difficulty and loss. Our potential isn't met through striving for anything: God will accomplish what God will accomplish as we simply remain faithful to him and do the everyday stuff he gives us and trust him even through the pain and difficulty.
God has given us dreams and visions and passion and abilities for him to accomplish things that seem impossible. But, a the end of the day, he is the one who will accomplish them. All he asks of us is that we faithfully live our lives. That, if we are given a year to live, that we can hold our heads high, knowing that we are already doing the stuff so we don't need to change anything about ourselves. Basically, so that we can live like we were dyin'.

Tim McGraw, "Live Like You Were Dyin'"

Living the Dream

Sunday begins our "Living the Dream" series; a four-week study in the life of Joseph in Genesis. This story of Joseph serves to me as a picture of our faith. Joseph is a man who was extremely blessed by his father. He had favor from his father beyond what he deserved. And yet, he knew that he was made for more than a pretty coat and his destiny was different than what he was experiencing.

Joseph had a dream. A God-given dream. A dream, however, that he could not fulfill. I feel like maybe this should become the definition of a God-given dream (or at least included in the definition): something you can't do. If you can do it you don't need God. If God can only do it, don't even try to fulfill it because you can't! That's the weird paradox about God-ordained vision: God gives us a picture of His destiny for us but doesn't give us the ability to make it so.

We can look at Joseph in retrospect and say that he could have avoided all the pain he endured if he had only kept his mouth shut. Maybe. But not necessarily. The longer I follow Jesus the more I think that God wants us to experience times when we are tossed in the can or left alone and forgotten before he accomplishes His work in us. I think God is more concerned with strengthening our character than He is concerned with accomplishing stuff through us. At the end of the day, when I look at Joseph, I think God is happier with the fact that Joesph became a humble, faithful worshiper than with the fact that Joseph's dreams came true. That said, God still accomplished His work and fulfilled His promise to Joseph.

I can look back with retrospect on my own life (just like I can look with retrospect on Joseph's life) and say that there are things I wish I had done differently. I most surely live with regrets over poor choices I have made in the past because many of those choices have consequences that I still live with. But even in those times, I am able to look back and pull lessons that I would otherwise have never learned. I live with dreams that God has given me years ago and He has continued to bring more and more clarity as to what those dreams are. One day, like Joseph, I will fall on my face in tears before God; amazed that He has done what He has promised.

God gave Joseph a dream. God gave me a dream. God gave you a dream. You might not remember it, but it's there and he's going to make it happen. As I go through this story, I see us all at different stages: maybe God's dream is crystal clear in our minds; maybe we've made some choices and we're dealing with those consequences; or maybe things have happened to us and we're dealing with injustice. Things may have clouded that vision; but our loving, gracious and sovereign God is accomplishing His purpose in us.

We all have been granted favor from the Father. We all have received more than we deserve. And God has much, much more in store for us than we have seen or could even imagine.

Life in a Faith Winery

I have been thinking a lot lately about the image of a winery. Living in one of the world's premiere wine regions, I have come to appreciate how the wine-making process is analogous to the faith-growing process.

First of all, we all begin with so much potential. Just like the farmer in spring looks at his vines to assess the potential harvest, we all begin our lives with so much potential. However, in the same way that there are so many variables in the growth of the grapes (not enough rain; too much rain; bugs; disease; hail; etc), there is much that happens in all of our lives that works against the realization of our God-given potential. Circumstances arise that may (or may not) be beyond our control, causing damage and pain and testing our resiliency.

And then the grapes are harvested and pressed so that all that is usable in them is completely extracted for the purpose of the vintner. And as they sit and rot, they slowly turn into their intended purpose. And the potential that was in them has finally been realized.

As we remain in the Vine (and He in us) we, too, will see the potential within us come to fruition. Not without pain. Not without damage. Not without being completely pressed on every side. Not without giving everything we have for His purpose. And not quickly. The process of making wine is painful and slow. The process of making us, of maturing our faith, is also painful and slow.

But we are in the hands of the Vintner, who will create a beautiful vintage from the sour grapes that we are!